


LITHI

by katsudono



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Battle of Hogwarts, Other, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Post-War, Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 07:23:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12765990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katsudono/pseuds/katsudono
Summary: 「 last night, the sun didn't set.it fell.  」





	LITHI

The beginning of the end had finally come to a close. The drizzling fire was now burning lowly on the scattered embers in the courtyard, the war cries were just a faraway echo in the pine forests and the spilled blood on the pavement had created a muddy, unreal crust. The war was over.

The Great Hall of Hogwarts, covered in debris dust, was filled with the victorious, the survivors, the wizards and witches who had saved the Wizarding World. The hall was buzzing with the excited chatters of the students; Seamus and Dean were enthralled by Aberforth's stories from his first war experience against Grindewald, while others shared quiet conversations with awkward hand gestures and sparkling glances, like Neville and Luna, whose hands were interlocked as if there was no tomorrow.

It was a moment like this that proved they were still alive, with hearts drumming against their chests and hazy breaths coming out of their chapped mouths.

The first crack of the image came merely an hour later. Everyone was snapped out of their cheery aftermath celebration when the scream of Padma Patil resonated above everyone's voices. The girl fell on her knees, blood-stained cheeks washed by the sinful tears that trickled down as she wailed. Her twin could do nothing but crouch down besides her and hold Padma in her arms, even though Parvati herself couldn't block her whimpers and translucent tears from unraveling.

Padma clutched a hand, a hand so cold and colorless that seemed gray, a hand which had held a wand with determination. Lavender Brown didn't respond to her touch, laying still on the ground. Her light brown pigtails were stained with bits of flesh and blood,  _her blood_ , which no longer pumped through her veins.

Professor Sprout was the first who to approach the wailing girls, grasping both of their shaking backs and whispering words of love and comfort to them. The twins had no intention of leaving their best friend ("We can't leave her, she's scared of being alone in crowds!"), yet the Hufflepuff professor managed to pry them off the lifeless body of the innocent girl.

In that split moment, a new face entered the Great Hall - a person unknown to most, with the most well-known ginger-colored hair. He didn't even pay attention to his surroundings as he focused on the group of the ginger heads who were gathered around . . . something. Charlie Weasley didn't even give it a second thought as he ran towards his family.

The first one who noticed his arrival was Arthur, the strong man whose eyes were now red from crying and couldn't even utter his son's name as he approached them. Charlie's heart leaped at this sight and he squeezed momentarily his father's shoulder before trying to pass through his family's bunch. It was like time had stopped for everyone when his eyes fell upon  _him_.

"No."

He couldn't hear what the persons surrounding him were saying, nor did he feel his knees hitting the cold floor. For his eyes were glued on the pale, paler than he remembered, face of his brother, whose mischievous smile was still frozen on his face. He didn't register the moment he started screaming, crying and hitting the floor with his bruised hands as if he was trying to escape from a tank full of water. If you asked him, he couldn't remember fighting off the heavy hands of his family which were so desperately trying to grab onto him and ease his pain.

It was that moment that the translucent Fred Weasley blew kisses to his family and chuckled once last time.

It was that moment that Colin Creevey slid his hand in the cold hold of Severus Snape's phantom, as his own invisible body shook from sobbing.

It was that moment that a floating Lavender Brown hugged Parvati's shoulders ("Farewell, my friend.") and planted a ghost kiss on Padma's shaky lips ("In our next lives, my love.").

It was that night that the sun didn't set. It fell, along with the fallen ones of the cruel war. It fell, as if the weight of the world had grown.

Last night, the sun didn't set. It mourned. 


End file.
